


And the Grave Shall Yield up Her Dead

by OfANobleKind



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfANobleKind/pseuds/OfANobleKind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jace and Alec discover an ancient enemy isn't quite as dead as they thought, they have two options. One, ignore the problem and let it solve itself, or two, dive recklessly into the mayhem and hope they're back in time for date night. It's all fun and games until someone ends up as a vampire's snack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Día De Los Vivos

 

“We’re either going out for Chinese, or to commit a heinous crime. I’ll decide in the cab.”

            Alec shot his companion a look of alarm. The blond haired boy walking beside him smiled serenely, as if either circumstance would please him immensely. The hazy glow of the setting sun formed a misplaced halo around his head, turning the tawny strands into rich gold. “I think if you walked in to Zhang’s Restaurant looking like _that_ , we’d be thrown out immediately.”

            “Nonsense,” replied his blissful companion. “Tiana adores me and would let me eat in her restaurant, even if I was stark naked.”

            “And what a treat that would be for her,” Alec muttered under his breath, dubiously ignoring the baleful look shot his way. When he was sure the bright haired boy wasn’t focusing his intense gaze on him, Alec tilted his head to catch a view of his profile. It was true when he said their attire would get them kicked out of any establishment; their midnight leathers, thick soled boots, and lumps beneath their clothing that marked the outline of weapons simply reeked of trouble. They were dressed more for a hunt than for a casual night in a midgrade restaurant, and when Alec voiced this thought, he earned a low chuckle in reply.

            “Tonight, my brother in arms, we’ll get the best of both worlds.” The blond, whom Alec affectionately referred to as Jace, was in the process of hailing a taxi, and the arrival of one cut off any further elaboration Alec would have received. He was used to this, however. This recklessness that his parabatai seemed to crave. Alec always obediently followed whatever harebrained scheme Jace cooked up, because if he didn’t look after his parabatai, his brother-in-arms, who would? They would often dive headfirst into dangerous situations, only coming out intact because of their sheer force of will. It seemed that tonight would be no different.

            As the two boys crawled into the cab and seated themselves on the poorly patched and suspiciously stained seats, Jace leaned forward to give directions to the cabbie and an extra twenty if the man could get them there in ten minutes. A frown tugged at Alec’s lips. He knew their destination to be a rundown Chinese restaurant on the other side of Brooklyn, and he was curious why he would choose something so out of the way when they both knew of nicer, closer places. But Jace offered up no explanation, and Alec held his intrigued tongue.

            “LEFT, YOU IDIOT. I SAID LEFT!” Jace bellowed to the driver, who jerked the wheel to make a sharp left turn and cut off a speeding car in the process. They didn’t stick around to see if any damage had come of their hastiness, but out of guilt, Alec glanced out the back window and was relieved to see that traffic continued as usual.

            When they finally screeched to a halt that was sure to leave tread marks on the pavement (eight minutes and thirty-two seconds later), Jace unfurled himself from his cramped seat and slid out onto the sidewalk. Alec followed, paying the disgruntled cabbie a little extra. He moved to stand by his parabatai in front of the dive. The last of the sun disappeared, with the moon asserting its dominance for the night. It made it difficult for any mundane to really notice the details of this place, but Alec’s careful eyes missed nothing. Chipped brick walls framed cracked windows held together by duct tape. A sign that once held a cheerful and vibrant red dragon was now faded and nearly indistinguishable, and the flickering lights that spelled out Chinois Chinese only added to the eeriness that seemed to radiate from the dilapidated building.

            “So do you want to explain what we’re doing here armed to the teeth with weapons? The only thing that looks like it could pose a threat to us is the food, and I don’t think a seraph blade will come in handy there.” Alec turned his sharp blue eyes to Jace, who flashed a fiendish grin in return.

            “We’re not here to eat.” Alec’s stomach rumbled loudly in protest. “We’re here because I heard that the New York coven is holding a meeting they don’t want the Nephilim catching wind of, so naturally, I want to investigate.” Satisfied that they were at the right place, Jace nodded to himself and gestured for his companion to follow him inside.

            “Vampires? What would they be doing at a place like this?” Alec wondered aloud as he ducked into the restaurant. The interior was even worse, with dim lights causing red booths patched over with silvery tape to look almost putrid. An ancient man, withered and curled into himself, stood behind the front counter with the same battered sign that they’d seen hanging outside fluttering above him in the breeze from a small fan. He didn’t even glance their way as Jace led them to a back corner booth that offered a strategic view of the rest of the restaurant, but concealed them enough that anyone entering wouldn’t catch them at a first glance.

“Well, I guess it’s pretty discrete. No one is bound to overhear you in this dump,” muttered Alec as he cast his eyes around the vicinity. The only other patrons were two Asian men, just as leather faced and hunched as the first one they’d seen, engrossed in a game of Chinese checkers.

            Jace made a noncommittal sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh as he lowered himself onto a seat that was more duct tape than vinyl. “I thought that the bloodsuckers would at least have better taste than this. Then again, that sorry excuse for a hotel they keep themselves holed up in is much the same, so they’ll feel right at home.”

            Alec snickered, but then fell silent when the door swung open and a trio of people crowded in the entryway. Well, ‘people’ wasn’t exactly the right word to describe them. Their skin was unearthly pale, eyes unusually big and dark. Tendrils of blue laced their skin, mapping out the veins that pumped with blood drawn from a secondary source. Each one moved with silent grace, not so much as stirring the dust on the floor. At their head was a young Hispanic boy that looked no more than fifteen, but the two trailing in behind, one male and one female, obviously deferred to him as their leader. Alec recognized him almost immediately: It was Raphael Santiago, here with the most trusted of his clan.

            Even Jace was subdued as he watched the vampires glide to their seats towards the front of the restaurant. Keeping his head bent, the blond watched out of the corner of his eyes, so as to not appear too interested in the newcomers. Both he and Alec had carved a glamour rune into their skin before leaving, which would conceal them from being seen as Shadowhunters if only briefly glanced over. Should one of the bloodsuckers decide they needed closer inspection, their keen eyesight would see through the disguise and the mission would be over before it even began. Lucky for them, the vampires seemed to assume they were among safe company and barely spared them a sweeping glance. The owner had vanished the second the vampires had entered, but the two men stubbornly continued their game, which Alec silently appreciated. It made them look less suspicious.

            “The question is, why would they come here to hold a meeting they could have at Dumort?” Jace said softly, watching the vampires settle into booths and Raphael begin to pace the floor. There was a tense air about them, and they sat rigidly side by side. If they could breathe, Alec suspected they would be holding their breath.

            Alec was spared from answering when the door swung open again. A lone figure was admitted, and the collective breath was released. Both boys craned their necks to catch a glance of the newcomer, but the dim lighting made it difficult to distinguish any noteworthy features. It was only after Raphael muttered, “de Quincey,” in the same breath that he might say “foul cockroach,” that the vampire’s face sharpened and Alec nearly fell out of his seat.

           Pale blonde hair, so starch that it was almost white, barely brushed the man’s shoulders, which were covered by an unnecessary trench coat. Vampires didn’t feel the cold. His skin held more of a bluish tint than the others’, as if he’d spent a considerable amount of time in the frigid air before coming inside. The face carved from marble was now easily recognizable, but one that Alec had only ever seen in textbooks. Jace caught Alec’s eye and silently mouthed ‘Alexei de Quincey,’ which Alec had already gathered for himself. Turning his head slowly, he watched in numb shock as the vampire that had supposedly been killed over two hundred years ago shook Raphael’s hand, looking very much alive. Well, as alive as one of the undead could look.   

           

            “Raphael Santiago.” Alexei spoke languidly, the name rolling off his tongue like thick honey. There were traces of Russian heritage in the way he drew out his vowels   . “When you told me to meet you to talk business, I was rather hoping it would be somewhere more…” His pale blue eyes wandered the interior of the vicinity, and his lips curled in disgust. “… elegant. I didn’t realize our kind had resorted to crawling around in dumps like the mundane movies portray.”

            If de Quincey didn’t like this place, Alec thought, he definitely wouldn’t approve of Hotel Dumort.

            “We needed somewhere that wouldn’t be compromised by the Nephilim.” Raphael replied stiffly. Alec knew that there was no lost love between Shadowhunters and vampires, but he was still surprised to hear the venom in Raphael’s voice when he spoke of the angelic warriors. Glancing up to see Jace’s grim expression, he knew his parabatai was thinking the same thing.

            “Very well, then. If we must.” Airily waving a hand, Alexei took a seat in one of the taped over booths and gestured for Raphael to do the same. The two discrepant vampires, who had yet to utter a word, watched intently as their leader lowered himself to sit across from the vampire. The elder Downworlder leaned back with careless grace, a stark contrast to Raphael’s rigid posture.

            “As head of the New York coven, I felt it was my duty to welcome you back.” Raphael began, sounding as if this wasn’t his idea at all.

            “You couldn’t welcome me back from the dead in a place that wasn’t crawling with vermin?” Alexei inquired coyly. From where Alec was sitting, he could see a tic jump in Raphael’s jaw.

            “As I said before, we wanted our meeting to go undetected.”

It was rare for Alec to feel anything but loathing towards Raphael Santiago, but the way the older vampire was treating him elicited a wince of sympathy. Jace wouldn’t approve. “But we have heard of your, ah, exploits from years past, and should you agree to the terms set, Hotel Dumort is more than ready to accommodate you.”

            De Quincey’s beady eyes gleamed greedily. He suddenly appeared more alert and interested in what Raphael had to say. “Do go on. I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement that will benefit both parties.”

            Alec turned a quizzical eye to Jace, who shook his head. The history books had only subtly mentioned de Quincey as a former coven leader in London and that he’d been killed by Nephilim due to illegal practices that went unnamed. Now, it looked like Raphael was willing to bring them back in exchange for whatever his conniving mind came up with.

            Not one to beat around the bush, Raphael placed his clasped hands on the table in front of him and zeroed in on the princely Russian, relaxed and collected in his seat. “I am the head of the New York coven. I have worked very hard to get this position, and I don’t want to lose it. You being here jeopardizes that.”

            Alexei could read between the lines easily. Raising both pale eyebrows, he laughed dryly, humorlessly. “In exchange for indulging me in my unconventional tastes, you want me to leave you and your coven alone. You must be fairly desperate if you’re willing to engage in activities that are not only illegal, but punishable by death.”

            At that, the two vampires flanking Raphael bristled. They hadn’t been informed of the risk they’d be undertaking, but their leader remained unperturbed. He nodded solemnly and pressed on. “There are plenty of other covens in need of strong leaders, but New York is in fine hands. We are well established with the Nephilim. They believe us to be their allies. Introducing a new power into the mix would upset the delicate balance between the Downworlders and the Angel-born. We cannot risk—”

            “I am not interested in running a coven, Santiago.” It was clear that Raphael’s speech had been practiced, perhaps even rehearsed in the mirror. Alec watched his proud posture lose its rigidity when Alexei dared interrupt; nevertheless, he didn’t try to reclaim the podium.

            “I have only recently journeyed to New York,” continued de Quincey, “and I prefer to acquaint myself with the city before attempting to overthrow the current head. You are not in any danger.” A silent ‘yet’ hovered in the air.

           With narrowed eyes, Raphael’s calculating gaze gave him an air of one much older than his physical appearance would lead people to believe. Meeting Alexei’s bland smile with a subtle nod, the vampire rose like a wisp of smoke. “Then let this be a celebration of your return,” he declared without an ounce of joviality in his voice. His followers also stood, albeit uneasily. Their shifting glances ruined their attempt at a cool façade. “Dumort will extend its hospitality as long as you are in need of it.”

          Across the table, Jace raised his eyebrows. Alec lifted his shoulders in a shrug and shook his head. None of this made sense to him.

          “Does this mean that your earlier offer has been taken from the table?” Alexei arose with controlled poise, clasping his hands behind the back of his long coat. The lilt to his inquiry suggested hopefulness, but Alec wasn’t close enough to discern if it was all an act.

            For the first time since his arrival, a hint of a smile was detected on Raphael’s lips. “I would never deny a guest.”

            The rest of their exchanged words were lost in the commotion consisting of a cast aside chess board and an angry spout of Chinese from the next booth over. Alec instantly ducked his head, hoping to shield his face behind a wall of black hair. There was no need for precautions, however. When he looked up, the vampires had disappeared into the night. Only a cool gust from the shutting door announced their departure.

            “I don’t know what that was all about, but I sure don’t— Jace?” Dark eyebrows furrowed together quizzically as Alec ceased smoothing down his hair and snapped his fingers to bring Jace back to the present. His parabatai was staring intently at the door. The determined light blazing in his gold eyes caused Alec to inwardly cringe. He knew that look. That look was almost always followed by trouble.

            “We’re going after them,” Jace said suddenly, snapping to attention like a dog catching a scent. He leapt to his feet, sparing Alec a glance as an afterthought. “You don’t have to come, but I need to know what they’re up to.”

            Alec inwardly sighed. It wasn’t much of a choice. ‘Wither thou goest, I will go,’ or so went their oath. Jace would recklessly chase down the vampires, regardless if he had backup, but knowing Jace as he did, Alec had long ago determined that he always needed backup. So it wasn’t really a choice at all. “Don’t you dare leave me out of the fun,” he finally said, cracking a grin


	2. Everything That Can Go Wrong, Will Go Wrong

           Thick night draped over the city like a wool blanket by the time Alec and Jace stepped out onto the streets. A white speckled sky let its tears dust over the earth below as a gentle snow swirled around them, convincing people to seek shelter and leaving the pair of demon hunters alone on the deserted sidewalk. Feeling an oncoming chill, Alec drew his dark leather jacket tighter around him.

            They walked in silence down unfamiliar streets Alec only hoped were recognizable to Jace. Having been left behind the last time Dumort was the source of a problem, thanks to Jace’s infatuation with a certain red head, Alec only knew that the hotel resembled an abandoned apartment building. In this part of town, there were plenty of those. He had to trust Jace’s purposeful strides were carrying them in the right direction.

            It turns out, they weren’t.

            “Blasted bloodsuckers and their vampire speed,” Jace cursed under his breath as they backtracked down yet another darkened street. They’d lost the trail almost as soon as they left the restaurant. Alec could sense that his parabatai was coiled with an excited energy, ready to spring at danger, not walk around to try and find it.

            It was another fifteen minutes of terse searching before a triumphant shout revealed success. Alec quickly jogged after his parabatai down a small side road off 116th and found him standing before a rather unimpressive building.

            “This is it?” he asked, eyeing the blond skeptically. Even for vampires, this place was despairing and lacking any sort of vibrancy that came with an inhabited space. As an answer, Jace tilted his head towards a sign and kept his eyes trained on the boarded up windows for any sign of movement behind the wooden shield. The sign swung loosely from its post, hanging on by a rusted nail. A crude _R_ had been scratched in over the _N_ in the once proud HOTEL DUMONT.  

           “Yeah, this is it,” Alec muttered, verbally answering his own question.

           The elegance of the former hotel still presented itself in the chipped stone facade, gracefully decorated with carved curlicues. Alec, as one who appreciated the dignity of refined architecture, was saddened to see that weather and time had darkened the building until it looked like it was left to rot. It was a reflection of an earlier, more stylish era that had long since died; a metaphor for the undead inhabitants inside.

            “There was a metal grate here somewhere,” said Jace. He felt along a moss covered wall, rounding a corner and disappearing into a connecting alley behind the hotel. Alec’s hand hovered above the hilt of a seraph blade as he followed at Jace’s back. Their boots left traces of their snooping in the powdery snow, but Alec suspected their footprints would be covered within the hour.

            Heaps of garbage lined the rank alleyway: limp cardboard boxes, shattered bottles, plastic bags bogged down by the elements. Every now and then, the moon cast light on polished white bones scattered among the trash. Most belonged to animals, but some were much too large to have come from roaming strays. Alec looked away.

            A light dusting of snow and shifting light helped to conceal what rested in their path, a fact that had Alec swearing colorfully when his toe connected with hidden metal. Even through his thick boots, he still felt that one.

            “Would you keep it down?” Jace hissed, whirling on his parabatai. A witchlight stone flared up in his hand, casting a glow on the offending mound that had Alec’s foot throbbing.

            “Sorry. Stubbed my toe— hang on.” He crouched down and brushed away the snow, fingerless gloves doing nothing to protect his hands from the cold. Rust flaked bars winked up at him, forming what looked like an old metal vent. Glancing to his right, he saw a dark cavern hidden behind stacked plastic crates. “I think I found our way in.”

            Jace was by his side in an instant. He shoved the crates aside, and Alec winced at the small noise in the otherwise muted stillness.

            “This should lead us into the basement.” Tucking his seraph blade in his belt, Jace surveyed the obscured landing with his witchlight. “Follow me,” he said, and slid through the grating smoothly, feet first. Alec heard the muffled thump of Jace’s landing and tucked his own weapon away. Before he could join his parabatai, a sharp trio of dings caused Alec to freeze. “What was that?” Jace called up. Alec could see the faint glow of an angelic blade as his parabatai prepared for danger.

            “I think it was my phone.” He dug the device out of his pocket. Sure enough, a text from Magnus Bane, High Warlock of New York and the man Alec was currently dating, came across the screen.

            ‘The Chairman misses you. Call me.

                                    -M’

            Despite himself, Alec grinned as he shoved the phone away. 

           

        Jace watched Alec with raised eyebrows as he stood from a crouch and surveyed their dismal surroundings. “What?” Alec asked, wincing when his tone came out more defensive than intended.

            “If you were sexting Magnus right before a potentially dangerous mission—”

            “I wasn’t sexting anyone!” Alec’s voice pitched an octave higher, and he quickly hunkered down at his own shrill sound. He could feel the heat traveling up his neck and spreading through his cheeks. “Just— keep moving.”

            Jace’s grin bore into his back as he shoved past him. Ducking through a narrow doorway, Alec found corridors extending in all directions, none of which looked promising. The blond regained the lead. “Most of the stairways have been knocked down,” Jace recalled sourly, as if this was an injustice specifically meant to spite him. An unharmed set was tucked away in what used to be a laundry room, ghostly footprints reminding Alec that Jace had been here before. And that had turned out spectacularly.

            At the top of the steps was a door leading to the foyer. An unearthly stillness hung in the air, and for a moment, Alec considered the possibility that Raphael and de Quincey had not returned to the hotel. Rotting floorboards pushed aside dirt encrusted carpets, yet their footsteps didn’t make a sound. Alec had to thank the Silence rune carved into his ankle for that. Once the focal point of this luxurious room had been a grand staircase, flanking either side of an elegant fountain as it gracefully curved towards the higher floors. Now all that remained were the higher stairs, spiraling into darkness, and the cracked, crumbling fountain, which would only spout sludge if reconnected to the piping.

            The remainder of the staircase hovered above their heads, with the lower half stacked in uneven blocks against the side wall for kindling. No mundane would be able to reach the heart of the coven this way. That didn’t necessarily apply to a Shadowhunter. Alec watched in silent awe as Jace brushed past him to approach the steps, crouched, and sprang into the air. He landed with catlike grace atop the eroded staircase, bent low on the balls of his feet. The wood, miraculously, held firm beneath his boots.

            “Come on, then,” the blonde urged softly, stepping back to allow his parabatai room. Alec swallowed thickly. He sized up the leap. To be safe, he took a running start before flinging himself into the air. Whereas Jace made it to the landing without a problem, Alec had to scramble to gain purchase on the jagged edges of the splintered wood. There was a sharp sting across his palm, and then Jace was there, grabbing him by his wrists and hauling him onto more solid ground.

            “Thanks,” he gasped Jace pulled him to his feet. Dust clung stubbornly to his dark gear, and he impatiently brushed himself off. “That jump was higher than I thought.”

            “Not all of us have my unsurpassable skills,” Jace said sympathetically. “And heal that cut. I’d rather attract vampires with my good looks and charm, not with your blood.”

            An eye roll from Alec followed. Pulling out his stele, he carefully carved an iratze into his wrist. The shallow gash knitted itself back together as the rune faded, cutting off the trickle of blood. He quickly wiped off the remnants on his dark jeans. “Now what?”

            “I don’t know. I never made it this far without having to fight for my life.”

            The pair climbed higher, pausing at each floor to listen for any whisper of movement. All Alec could hear was the dull thud of his own heartbeat in his ears. Once they reached the sixth landing, Jace held a hand out to stop his companion. The carpet was fresher than the mold encrusted flooring downstairs, if a bit outdated, and the wood had not been allowed to rot. At the end of the corridor, a flickering light seeped out from below ornately carved double doors; the first sign of life they’d seen in this hotel ridden with the undead.

           They crept forward, slowly, until the entrance to the heart of the vampires’ lair loomed in front of them. Jace motioned for Alec to be still. He pressed his ear against the door, and Alec followed suit.

           A chorus of murmuring from within made it difficult to discern what they were discussing; that is, until one voice rose above the rest and silenced the chatter. The words themselves were difficult to make out, but Alec could hear a clipped Spanish accent. The speaker did not sound pleased.

           ‘Raphael,’ Jace mouthed, confirming Alec’s suspicions. If only they could—

           A hand gripped the collar of Alec’s shirt, savagely yanking him away from the door. A muffled exclamation slipped past his lips, but before he could cry out again, a strong forearm clenched around his neck and cut off his air supply. He gasped and went for a knife in his belt. His fingers had barely wrapped around the hilt before his assailant, suspecting the danger, struck Alec’s head against the wall. He momentarily went limp as stars exploded across his vision and pain rocked through his skull.

           He was vaguely aware of a scuffle to his right as Jace took on their attackers. The choking hold around his throat was quickly released as his arms were secured behind his back, pinching the muscles tight enough to make him wince. Despite dizziness threatening to send him to the floor, Alec struggled against the grip, earning a vicious kick to the back of his knee that caused his legs to buckle. Then another figure materialized beside him, tugging him to his feet and kissing a knife against his jugular. He heard the harsh intake of breath as Jace froze, able to see what Alec couldn’t.

           It wasn’t a knife. Alec blinked away the haze from his vision. Razor-sharp talons, painted a deep maroon, pricked his skin, threatening to sever his head with one swipe. He could see the nails belonged to a pale hand, and he was sure if he turned his head to look at his captor, he’d come face to face with the unearthly beauty of a vampire. With what little strength he had left, Alec cursed.

           “Hello, boys.” The voice belonging to the claws, distinctly feminine and silky, brushed against Alec’s ear. “Why don’t you set down your weapons so we don’t have to stain this carpet with your blood.”


	3. Into the Fire

     “Splattering our blood all over the walls would definitely improve the décor in this dismal place,” Jace drawled as he took a slow step forward. Instantly, two vampires flanking Alec’s captors sprang between the blond and his parabatai, fangs bared menacingly. Jace stopped, looking mildly amused. “Yes, very frightening, but I’m not going to harm them.”

     “Drop your weapons, Shadowhunter, and maybe we’ll believe you,” the woman purred. Her grip on Alec tightened convulsively when Jace braved another step. Alec’s expression twisted into a grimace as he felt her nails sink deeper, drawing out a thin trickle of warm blood. Again, Jace was forced to halt. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Alec knew that look; it was a look that said he was going to launch himself at their attackers, damn the consequences.

     “Jace,” Alec called out, voice surprisingly even. His parabatai didn’t glance his way, but he felt the brute behind him stiffen. “Don’t.”

     “Listen to the dark haired beauty, little Nephilim,” the female voice cooed. Alec went rigid when he felt a crimson tipped nail slowly drag down his cheek. “Raphael merely wants to talk with you boys.” Jace finally looked up, a tic jumping in his jaw.

 _Listen to them_ , Alec’s gaze pleaded.

 _I don’t want to_ , Jace’s said in reply.

_I have a date with Magnus in a couple hours, and I really don’t want to die a virgin._

     Alec wasn’t sure Jace was able to comprehend all of that, but the gist of the message seemed to register. Jace’s eyes tore away from his captive parabatai and focused on the woman beside him. “I can still kill you without a weapon. Remember that.” With his gaze locked on the vampires, he slowly lowered his seraph blade and let it clatter to the floor, then proceeded to unearth an array of blessed daggers, a runed sword, his stele, and a vial of holy water that soon joined the mix.

     Faster than the eye could detect, the two vampires acting as a barrier darted to Jace’s side. He leveled his gaze with each of them individually before raising his hands and interlocking his fingers behind his head. Defiance was written all across his features, despite the submissive position he’d put himself in.

     “Wonderful. Now it’s your turn, Shadowhunter,” came the feminine purr. As an answer, Alec attempted to jerk his arms free from the man’s grip. He wasn’t released, but he felt the pressure of the woman’s hand slide from his neck. The female vampire slipped around to stand in front of him and proceeded to search him herself.

     Alec supposed she was pretty, if porcelain skin paired with curly honey hair and large blue eyes were attractive to straight men. She was considerably less desirable the more she ran his hands over his torso, slipping her fingers into his belt and dipping them below the waistband of his pants to check for weapons. He remained stoic with his jaw clenched as she searched: no use in picking a fight now. She continued to frisk him long after all hazards had been removed, and Alec was relieved when Jace cleared his throat to catch her attention.

     “Unless you’re looking for the weapon inside the front of this jeans, I suggest we move on.”

     “Oh, all right,” she simpered, slowly straightening up. Alec tried to tamper down on the flame in his cheeks, but her ruby painted lips curl into a satisfied smirk when she noticed his embarrassment. “They’re clean. Take them to Raphael.”

     Once his arms were free, Alec stumbled and fell in line with Jace. He mimicked the same positioning of his parabatai’s arms, clasping his hands together behind his head. 

     “Enjoying yourself there, brother?” Jace asked with a crooked grin.

     “Shut up,” retorted Alec.

     Three vampires behind them and two in front caged the Shadowhunters in, with the woman sauntering ahead to take the lead. What little chatter Alec could hear from behind the walls instantly silenced when she flung the door open and they were marched inside.

     Across dark, stylish furniture sprawled elegantly dressed men and women, all as unearthly pale as the moon on a starless night. It was a stark contrast to the dismal, rotting rooms below: brightly polished floors stretched to either end of the spacious room, reflecting the light of the glittering gems clinging to multiple chandeliers. The decorations were timeless; they could have interrupted a meeting in the 1960s, and it would have looked the same, save it for the boarded up windows that blocked any ray of sunlight that dared to attempt to stream through.

     The leather clad pair, not yet bound but nevertheless prisoners, were not allowed more than a few feet before they were stopped by a handful of vampires rising silently to block their progress. They were joined by another group standing guard behind them, all bristling like cats poised to pounce, to ensure the front door would not be their method of escape. Shadowhunters were notorious for their combat skills, and even the two of them posed a threat to the clan. Alec chanced a look at Jace, who merely looked smug about the whole ordeal.

     “ _Dios mio,_ ” came a soft, amused voice from beyond the wall of bloodsuckers. “The Nephilim have once again returned to our sanctuary. Were you not thoroughly beat the last time you ventured inside?” There was a scoff, and the barrier parted, revealing Raphael Santiago standing next to an impassive Alexei de Quincey. “Shadowhunters: Biting off more than they can chew since 1234.”

     De Quincey, to his credit, merely arched his light eyebrows at the sight. Next to the slight, mere wisp of a boy, he appeared to be the one in change, but it was Raphael whose voice commanded respect.

     “What were your intentions?” Raphael asked.

     “You see, I’ve had something akin to a crush on one of your wards.” Unsurprisingly, it was Jace who answered. Alec muttered a curse and braced himself.

     “She has refused every one of my devilishly charming advances and has spurned every attempt to woo her. I am just as surprised as you are, because it is rare for a woman to deny herself all of this,” he gestured down the length of his body with a flourish, sounding so ridiculously forlorn that Alec had to duck his head to hide a smile. “I figured that the best way to proclaim my affection was to sneak into her room and watch her while she slept. I’ve read somewhere that bloodsuckers are into that.”

     A disgruntled vampire cuffed Jace on the back of the head, and he fell silent. Raphael still looked bored.

     “I would say this vampire has good taste,” he said. “Now, if that is all the business you have here…” In a surprisingly casual gesture coming from someone so refined, he waved them off. “I have no interest in keeping. Let them go.”

     Unease rippled across the crowd. “They broke the Accords by coming here,” called one voice.

     “You can’t deny us fresh blood that walks right into our hands,” said another.

     Low murmurings like this continued, rising in intensity until one voice silenced the rest.

     “You offered me an indulgence, Raphael. Would not these two satisfy your claim?” Alexei de Quincey, having otherwise remained aloof, now glided towards the two Shadowhunters. Up close, he was a rather intimidating figure, all high cheekbones, depthless eyes, and bone white skin. He looked them over as one would when selecting among an array of delectable meats, and Alec felt a shiver trace his spine. It was the vampire’s stare that kept Alec rooted to the spot, and even Jace was subdued. The bottomless black revealed the horrors he had faced over a lifetime – faced, and conquered.

     “I want them both.” Alexei’s low voice rose to address the crowd, and more specifically, Raphael. “In exchange for my silence and my loyalty, the Shadowhunters are to be mine to use at my leisure.” His eyes swept the crowd, a triumphant, haughty smile in his eyes that never found its way to his lips. “And to share.”

     Beside him, Alec felt Jace tense.

     Amid a chorus of appraisal, Alexei’s eyes skipped over the two captive boys to rest on Raphael. The leader of the coven was stoic, a subtle frown enough to show he did not approve of the idea. Yet more and more vampires were surging forward, not to lay a hand on the Shadowhunters, but to offer sugary compliments to Alexei or whatever else they thought would win them his favor and first bite of their newest prizes.

     If Raphael were to refuse, he would have a riot on his hands. Alec knew it, and he knew that the other vampire knew it. Even de Quincey, as he promised loyalty, seemed to know that Raphael’s hands were tied.

     “Consider them my gift to you,” Raphael finally said, his expression unchanging.

     “Raphael, you son of a—” Jace’s expletive was lost among the roar of the crowd.

     Before the pair could attempt to flee, hands were on them, locking their arms behind their backs and roughly shoving them forward. Pointed canines poked out from under hungry smiles from the clan. Alec did not like what they promised.

     Alexei rose a hand, and silence smothered the room. “We will prepare a feast in honor of my return, with our Nephilim friends as the main course.” The cheers redoubled in intensity, and Alec barely heard the order to have them locked in an adjacent room. As they were hustled out of the chaos, Alec chanced a glance back, searching for Raphael in hope that the vampire would not stand for the Shadowhunters being carted off like pigs, but the leader of the New York coven had already left.


	4. Alexei's Prize

Head and heart pounding in painful unison, Alec stumbled as he was hurled unceremoniously into a sparsely furnished room. Jace followed in soon after, albeit much more gracefully, only to round on the door and watch it slam in his face. A series of expletives and fists banging on the wooden door ensued, but it remained firmly shut.

“Jace, save your strength.” Alec wearily lowered himself onto the only furnishing in the room, a queen-sized bed draped in a black and white comforter. The dim lighting came from a battery powered lantern on a windowsill, with the window itself covered by a layer of brick. He could go for an iratze in order to dull the aches from their scuffle and even use a rune to demolish the wall, but his stele had been commandeered as soon as they had been captured.

  
Seething, Jace stalked away from the door and set to pacing with his hands alternating between clasping behind his back and running through his tawny locks. “That slimy, disloyal, selfish bastard. The Clave will have his head for this. _I_ will have his head for this. And his legs, and his arms, and whatever other body parts I can rip off his pathetic body.”

  
“Jace,” Alec groaned again. “Calling him names doesn’t help our situation.”

  
“No, but it makes me feel better.” Jace paused mid-stride and tilted his head, regarding his parabatai with amused curiosity. “I wouldn’t be sitting on that bed if I were you.”

Something about Jace’s half smirk, the haughty curl of his lips that taunted him with knowledge he refused to share, made Alec’s eyebrows rise in defiance. “Good thing you’re not me. I’m not going to be a martyr and suffer on the cold floor, even if the bed was used by vampires.”

  
“Used by vampires to…” Jace let his statement hang in the air, watching him expectantly. “I doubt there was sleeping going on between those sheets.”

  
Realization lit up Alec’s blue eyes. Like he’d been scalded, he launched himself from the bed to stand by his snickering brother-in-arms, disgust mingling with horror on his face as he swiped his clothes to rid them of the invisible filth they were coated in. Grunting, he swatted Jace, which only served to make him laugh louder and less discreetly.

“Shut up,” he muttered sourly, shooting the bed a baleful glare. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

  
“We’re about to be strung up like piñatas and drained of our blood. At least I’m able to find humor in something.”

  
Before Alec could respond, the door banged open and half a dozen vampires flooded inside. At their head was the same woman who had given Alec the most action he’d had in his young life. He fought the urge to shrink behind his parabatai and met her glittering eyes coldly.

  
“Alexei de Quincey is ready for you now,” she purred, dragging her tongue across her exposed canines. “Which one of you will be our first volunteer?”

  
A beat of silence. “And if neither of us volunteers?” Ice coated Jace’s question.

  
The woman merely smiled. It was as pretty as a poisonous flower. “Asking you was a formality; Alexei won’t mind if we have to drag you out kicking and screaming.” Her baby blues flitted over Alec again, as if she was hoping they would have to do exactly that.

  
Alec stole a glance at Jace, but his parabatai kept his stubborn gaze forward. His jaw was set and shoulders tense, and even without the rune binding them together, he knew Jace was seconds away from offering up himself. Ever the damn martyr.

  
Except…

  
“Take me.” Breathless and out of his mind, Alec shoved himself in front of Jace, pushing him back and holding up his hands, palms out, a redundant gesture to show he was unarmed. “I’ll come with you first.”

  
“Alec.” Jace hissed in his ear. He gripped Alec’s upper arm, but Alec shrugged his parabatai off. There was a mix of shock and pain in Jace’s voice that threatened to break his resolve.

  
He turned, clasped his brother’s shoulder, and nodded firmly. His heart redoubled its efforts to burst from his chest. “Your blood is worth more than mine.”

  
The vampires merely watched the exchange with eager anticipation, but Alec knew Jace understood. Jace’s blood, the blood shared with the angel Ithuriel, the blood that turned a sun-fearing vampire into a Daylighter, could not be shared with this greedy clan. The results would be catastrophic, and Jace risked a life as a human blood bank. A few vampire bites were worth protecting his parabatai.

  
Jace stopped his protests, but the hard line of his mouth made it clear he was not pleased. Alec squared his shoulders and faced the waiting bloodsuckers.

  
“Let’s get this over with.” Despite his dry mouth, he managed to sound flippant, bored, even. Jace would be proud if he wasn’t glaring daggers into his back right now.

  
At a nod from the woman, the vampires swarmed him. Some locked their iron grips around his upper arms while others secured his hands behind his back. Alec did not make a sound, his eyes glazing over as he stared straight forward. When their blonde leader stepped closer to run her hands freely over his torso, he remained perfectly stoic, a stone-faced soldier.

  
“If you taste half as good as you look, then we are in for a treat,” she murmured, tugging on a lock of his midnight hair harshly enough that he was forced to look down at her pointed smile. When he refused to acknowledge her, she harrumphed and spun on her heel to preserve her dignity.

  
“Alec, no. You can’t—” Alec heard rather than saw Jace surge forward. Two vampires flanking him moved to intercept the desperate Shadowhunter, just as Alec redoubled his efforts to break free.

  
They never stood a chance.

  
Already fatigued, Alec only managed to connect two punches before a fist to the eye and nails raking down his cheek sent him reeling. To his side, Jace was faring no better. They were both wrestled to the ground in minutes.

  
Having managed to avoid the scuffle, the woman picked her way inside to crouch before Alec, her stilettos clipping across the stone. A handcuffing the back of his neck pressed the fresh slashes across his cheek into the ground. He grimaced.

  
“Alexei needs only one of you alive. Try something like that again, and your blond friend will be killed without a second thought.” She nodded to the man holding Alec down and they hauled him to his feet. The fight had not gone out of the Shadowhunter, but struggling would not do him any good now, not while they were on high alert.

  
As he was marched out, a small, stealthy figure swathed in shadows slipped in before the door swung shut. Had the Shadowhunter or any of the vampires turned to look, they would have been startled to see the glint of metal from a dagger in his hand and the gleam of revenge in his dark eyes.

 

Alec hadn’t been to many parties in his young life, having never had the time, but he was almost certain that Dumort was not hosting a celebration. The atmosphere was as drab as when he had snuck in, but perhaps with an underlying tang of excitement that wasn’t there before. Furniture had been moved into the main room, as had all the tables, which now held glasses of blood infused wine. Many were already sipping more than their fair share of the drinks, lounging on couches or milling about while they waited for the guest of honor.

  
Him. The only consolation was that they weren’t going to drain him dry or turn him into one of them, since they wanted his blood for longer than just one night. That did nothing to stop the nerves from clenching around his insides.

  
Alexei, holding, but not drinking from, a champagne flute, uncrossed his long legs and rose elegantly to meet the vampires herding Alec inside. His piercing gaze roamed over the Shadowhunter, stripping him of all defenses and peering straight into his soul.

  
“He’s injured. Why?” His gaze cut over to the woman, who straightened and put on a commanding aura.

  
“There was an incident. He was not ready to come willingly, but it was handled,” she replied briskly, trying to sound professional.

  
Those dark eyes once again found his, but this time, there was amusement where Alec expected there to be rage. “Good,” said Alexei. “I’ve always enjoyed the taste of adrenaline.”

  
He parted the barrier of guards to reach Alec. Fists clenched by his sides, the hunter felt bile rise up in the back of his throat as the vampire leaned in, his smile nothing less than predatory.

  
“What’s your name, boy?”

  
“Why do you need to know?” Alec said brusquely. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he swallowed to wash out the dryness.

  
“I don’t need to know anything,” Alexei drawled. “However, I would like to know where to deposit your body when we’re finished with you. Unless, of course, you prefer we dump you in the sewers. That can certainly be arranged.”

  
He nicked a vein throbbing in Alec’s neck with a razor sharp nail. Alec felt a warm trickle of blood slide down the side of his throat and now fought for control of his emotions.  
“Alec Lightwood,” he finally muttered reluctantly. “Of the Lightwood Institute.”

  
Alexei’s eyes flashed, but the emotion was gone too quickly to be identified.

  
“I need a private room,” he said suddenly, tearing his penetrating gaze away from Alec and addressing the waiting vampires. One of their number broke from the crowd to gesture down a darkened hall, his pointed smile and beady eyes never leaving Alec.

  
Alec felt the blood drain from his face and race down his spine as a foreboding chill. The group of vampires continued to rake their eyes over him hungrily, like they were starved and he was their buffet. Only Alexei’s stern gaze kept them at bay.

  
What was he thinking, offering himself like some sort of blood sacrifice? The answer was, he wasn’t thinking. At least, not about himself. If he ran now, Jace was a dead man. It was that thought and that thought alone that kept his feet rooted to the floor as the vampires reluctantly dispersed and left him alone with de Quincey.

  
Alexei smiled. It was a frightening curl of his lips, glittering like an array of exquisite diamonds but sharper than the tip of a seraph blade. Moving swiftly, he clamped his hand around Alec’s arm, just above the elbow, and steered him away from the milling vampires. A corridor jutted out on the opposite side of the ballroom from where he’d been dragged out, and now Alexei ushered him down it.

  
The light from the festivities didn’t quite reach down the hallway, but Alec’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dim lighting. He shuffled past rows of doors, some open and leading to darkness while others were firmly shut with articles of clothing hanging on the doorknob.

  
They bypassed all of them. Alexei’s grip remained unyielding and bruising, forcing Alec’s resistant feet to carry him further into the unforeseen.

  
Finally, Alexei stopped him at a door tucked away at the end of the hallway. There was nothing noteworthy about its appearance, Alec noted, but something about this particular room must have pleased the vampire because he hauled Alec inside. The door was shut behind them, trapping them in a void of nothingness. It was only then he was released. He jerked away from Alexei with a scowl.

  
Massaging his arm, he backed further into the center of the room until the back of his knees collided with a soft mattress. A bed. He hastily stepped to the side, not eager to relive his past experience with vampire beds.

  
Alexei was merely a bob of white hair as he moved about the room, pausing every so often to light a candle and leaving a flickering flame in his wake. With his back to Alec, the Shadowhunter changed direction and began to edge towards the door. His hand had barely wrapped around the cold handle when a sharp voice made him jolt.

  
“I am not going to kill you, but if you take one more step, I will have no choice.” Alexei hadn’t turned around, nor spoken above a murmur, but there was no mistaking he would be able to follow through with his threat. It was the careless ease in which he gracefully strode around that made Alec release the door knob: A lesser skilled man would blunder and boast, but Alexei carried himself with quiet dignity, dignity that would severely punish anyone who dared injure it.

  
Alec reluctantly stepped away from his only means of escape.

  
“Death would be a better option than being your blood bag,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady.

  
“Would it? Seeing as neither of us have truly died,” Alexei turned to face him, the flickering shadows casting his face into sharp relief, “it would be impossible to know that for certain.”

  
Alec said nothing; Jace was the master of witty banter, not him.

  
Prowling across the tiled floor, Alexei drew near enough to wrap a pale hand around Alec’s waist, then he stepped even closer, forcing the boy back until he hit the door behind him. Revulsion curdled in Alec’s stomach. With confidence he didn’t feel, he met Alexei’s amused stare, but he could hardly hear the vampire’s purr over his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

  
“I’ve met your kind before,” he said. “I thought I knew everything, but you are different.”

  
Alexei trailed his free hand over Alec’s mutilated cheek. Alec couldn’t suppress a grimace as pain shot through his face, like white-hot nails were dragging against his skin.

“Different than normal Shadowhunters?” he gasped, seeking a distraction.

  
“Different than normal _Lightwoods_. I was well acquainted with your family years ago, though now you’ll find them hard-pressed to admit to such an interaction.” He sounded coldly amused. “I wonder what they’ll think when they find out one of their own has been sullied by a vampire.”

  
Alec had closed his eyes, but he could feel Alexei’s leer searing red splotches onto his cheeks. Alexei’s lean body was now fully pressed against his. Behind his back, Alec groped for the door handle, felt the cold metal against his palm, and savagely twisted the knob.

  
With startled shouts, both vampire and Shadowhunter spilled into the hallway and crashed onto the outdated carpet. Alec struggled to free himself from their tangled limbs. He kicked out, felt the heel of his boot connect solidly with Alexei’s stomach, and then scrambled to his feet. He only had time to whirl around before a fist smashed into the previously uninjured side of his face, sending him staggering back blindly.

  
Two vampires, having been lurking in the corridor for the chance to be the first to get their hands on Alec, now advanced on the unarmed Shadowhunter. One leapt forward, seizing Alec by one shoulder and slamming two punches into his stomach. Groaning, Alec wavered and threatened to slip to his knees, but the other man had now reached him.  
Where his companion was now helping Alexei to his feet, the other saw fit to fill the time by grabbing Alec by his neck and hurtling his head against the wall. Alec’s forehead left a sizable dent in the ghastly wallpaper, and in his pain filled delirium, he thought Jace would say the blood added a nice touch.

  
Alexei, now on his feet, did not stop the men from beating Alec until there was more blood on his face than patches of clear skin. It was only when he saw Alec’s eyes begin to glaze over that he stopped the men from allowing his prey to slip into complete unconsciousness.

  
“Deposit him on the bed inside; I am still not finished with him.” Alexei’s apathetic gaze showed no pleasure or remorse for this turn of events. “Then I want you to kill his blond friend. Drain him, if you’d like, but I want him dead.”

  
Barely any of this registered with Alec as he lay heaving on the floor. Some part of him recognized Jace was in danger, sending a jolt of fear through his veins, but even as he tried to drag himself to his knees, he legs gave out under him and he collapsed back onto the ground in a state of near oblivion. Two pairs of hands hauled him up by his underarms, dragging his listless body back into the room swathed in shadows.

“If we don’t tell the others,” grunted one of the vampires as he swung Alec onto the velvety bed, “we can have the Nephilim all to ourselves.”

  
“I wouldn’t be so sure the two of us would be able to subdue Jace Lightwood on our own, especially if he thinks he has nothing to lose,” said the other. “Do you remember what happened to Ernie the last time those damned Nephilim were here? We had them outnumbered, yet they still managed to escape, but not before severing poor Ernie’s ear off.”

The pair broke off into fervent murmurs, arguing over the potential for fresh blood and the threat an unarmed Shadowhunter could cause. They made sure Alec wasn’t at risk of falling off then stalked out the open door, eager to take down their next target.

  
“Jace…” Alec’s feeble warning was useless. He knew he was indisposed and could not go to his parabatai’s aid, knew it from the way his head throbbed and stars flickered across his hazy vision. He managed to roll over so he was facing the door and saw a tall, lean silhouette leaning against the frame. The gesture was so casual, a blatant mark of indifference, that for one wild moment, Alec thought Jace had somehow broken free and come to rescue him, and he was lurking in the doorway as a sign of amusement about Alec’s current predicament.

  
Once the figure began to glide into the room, Alec’s heart sank. He struggled to sit up, but then Alexei was beside him, pushing him back onto the bed. Alec’s weak muscles meant he gave no protest.

  
“I admire your spirit, Lightwood, even if it is a nuisance. Before, I could promise you my bite wouldn’t hurt. Now,” Alexei released a throaty laugh, “I promise you that the pain will be excruciating.”

  
Alec laid there, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with rapid pants. He felt the bed shift as Alexei climbed atop it, the heavy weight of another body on top of his, the light brush of long hair against his cheek… Forcing his eyes open to look death in the face, Alec saw Alexei smile. Something glinting like metal flashed before his eyes. He hardly had time to wonder what it was before he felt Alexei’s fangs sink into his neck.

  
He screamed. Bucking and thrashing, Alec tried to dislodge the vampire from his neck. His veins felt like they were being dissected with a white-hot knife, puncturing every cell with the flames. Alexei held firm, and Alec, already so weak and disoriented, managed one last thought for Jace’s safety before slipping into blissful unconsciousness.


End file.
